Note: This document makes heavy use of Unicode. These characters ṭ ḍ ş ḷ r should match the "retroflex" column in the diagram, while the velar nasal is ŋ.

On a Mac, I’ve found that Safari but not IE displays it OK. You want to use Safari anyway; it’s better.

On Windows, the presently distributed Windows fonts don’t include the right code points. One that does is Gentium, from SIL. This page will use Gentium if it’s available.

The phonology is somewhat idealized, being based on reconstruction from modern dialects, borrowing behavior, infuriatingly vague comments from OS grammarians, and the OS writing system. The only really problematic aspect is the exact nature of the third column of consonants. Retroflex is the best guess, but palatal and even aspirated stops are remoter possibilities.

To produce retroflex stops, start with the tongue on the alveolar ridge behind the teeth, and slip it upwards. The tip may end up curled backwards (which is what ‘retroflex’ means). However, it shouldn’t end up on the top of the palate (that’s the place for palatals). If you’re American, your r may be retroflex. If your tongue points upward from its rest position, you’re in business— just move it forward a bit and you’ve got OS ṭ and ḍ. If your tongue points downward and is pulled into the back of the mouth, you have a bunched r instead.

OS r in the delta dialect was an approximant, but seems to have been a flap in other areas (e.g., it ended up as a flap in Gurdagor).

English t/d/n/s/lare alveolar, with the tongue touching the ridge behind the teeth; make sure you pronounce the OS t/d/n/s/l as dental, with the tongue touching the teeth, for maximum contrast with the retroflexes.

OS had some formidable clusters (e.g. kpasriukka, ŋoknlun). Some of these were subject to assimilation consistently enough that it can be assigned to the OS period:

combinations of dental and retroflex stops assmilate: *ḍadḍu → ḍaḍḍu

inital stops agree in voicing: *kḍeba → kṭepa, *gtira → gdira

a velar nasal assimilates after a dental stop: *udŋa → udna

Other assimilations and dissimilations can be deduced from sound changes in the daughter languages, but their timing is unclear, and it’s best not to assume they were present in OS. On the other hand, it should be recognized that the language as presented here is somewhat idealized, and would probably sound archaic or simply strange in many places to a Skourene.

There is no phonemic retroflex nasal, but n next to a retroflex consonant was very likely retroflexed.

N before g was not velarized; don’t pronounce Engidori as *Eŋgidori.

Any two distinct vowels can be concatenated; but two identical vowels are separated by an inserted r— e.g. a + a = ara.

The general stress rule is that it comes after the first consonant in the root. As this requires identifying what the root is, this will be discussed in more detail below.

We will encounter gender in a few miscellaneous areas: verb affixes, derivational morphology, the possessive suffixes, interrogative pronouns; it’s convenient to explain it beforehand.

OS doesn’t have lexical gender, as in French or Verdurian; it has natural gender, like English. That is, gender isn’t a fact about words, but a fact about referents.

There are four genders, which can be divided into two overall categories, sentients and non-sentients.

Sentients (or persons) include humans, other intelligent species such as the iliu and elcari, gods and supernatural beings. These are divided into

masculine, for adult males in these categories, or for mixed groups

feminine, for females and children

Non-sentients include everything else. These can be divided into

animate, for animals, and more broadly, for anything conceived of as able to act on its own— notably including bodily organs, fire, running water, cities and countries, and the weather. Abstractions regarded as active (e.g. epuneka ‘fate’) work as animates.

inanimate, for things that are not regarded as acting on their own.

Human institutions may vary in gender by context. If they’re being used as shorthand for the people involved, they’re masculine (e.g. gşarali ‘the court’, nladali ‘the school as an institution’). If only the location is referred to, they’re animate (e.g. gşarali ‘the throne room’, nladali ‘the school building’). Cities and countries, however, are always animate.

By our standards, the Skourenes were fairly generous about assigning sentiency or animacy. From their perspective, of course, we are extremely narrow about these things!

Gender is not always expressed; when it is, the distinction made is not always fourfold. Sometimes only sentients and non-sentients are distinguished; sometimes masculine/feminine/non-sentient.

As in the Semitic languages, most verb roots are triconsonantal, e.g. b-k-ş ‘break’. Different verb forms (as well as derived nouns) are created by placing vowels before, between, or after these consonants, or by adding affixes. For instance, ṭ-l-p- ‘write’ has forms such as these:

ṭelpum

it was written

ṭelup

I wrote

ṭuloup

we will write

aiṭlope

they made me write

ṭeilop

he was always writing

inṭulup

I may try to write

ṭlepa

document

aṭelop

writer

ṭilap

pen

uṭalpas

the art of writing

aṭalpi

written

gauṭulip

you write clumsily

nilṭulrap

she can write

Though these look and sound very different to us, they are all standard derivations, easily recognized by an OS speaker as belonging to a single root, and in fact they are all written using the same glyph.

For ease in discussion, it’s convenient to name the positions within the root; we will refer to the three consonants as C1, C2, C3, and the positions adjacent to them as P0, P12, P23, P4. Thus instead of saying “an -a- inserted between the second and third consonants signals a noun” we can say “an -a- in P23 signals a noun”.

Some examples:

P0

C1

P12

C2

P23

C3

P4

ṭ

e

l

p

u

ai

ṭ

l

o

p

e

ṭ

l

e

p

a

ṭ

i

l

a

p

u

ṭ

a

l

p

as

Though Skourene grammarians consider the root to consist of the consonants only, each verb has a characteristic vowel or stem vowel which usually appears in P12— for instance e in ṭ-l-p- ‘write’ or i in k-s-n- ‘hear’. The stem vowel is always one of i e a. It doesn’t always appear, but when it does it’s not predictable from the consonants; it must be learned along with them and is thus best considered part of the root. The citation form of ‘write’ is thus ṭelp-, and ‘hear’ is kisn-.

There are a small number of biconsonantal roots, which will be discussed later.

OS is an ergative/absolutive language. To understand what this means, let’s look at a pair of related sentences:

The window broke.The boys broke the window.

Syntactically, we say that the first sentence is intransitive, meaning that it has a subject and no object, and the second is transitive, meaning that it has both. Semantically, we can talk about three possible case roles:

experiencer (subject of intransitive)

actor(subject of transitive)

patient(object of transitive)

English is a nominative/accusative language:

Actors and experiencers have the same case, nominative. This is easiest to see with pronouns: compare I danced with I hit my brother. However, it affects syntax as well: both appear before the verb, as subjects, and both trigger 3s verb agreement (compare The window breaks vs. The man breaks the windows).

Patients have their own case, the accusative— compare My brother hit me. Syntactically, they appear after the verb, as objects.

Verdurian is also nominative/accusative, with case marked on the noun and verb agreement with the subject; compare

So aknó brisre.Soî sefoi brisrüso aknám.

In an ergative/absolutive language like OS:

Experiencers and patients have the same case, the absolutive. Semantically, this is more sensible than our system: the window, for instance, obviously has the same role in both sentences.

Actors have their own case, the ergative. (As a mnemonic: the name comes from the Greek ergon ‘work’, as in ‘ergonomic’. The ergative is the one who’s doing the work.)

The syntactic case always matches the semantic roles: the recipient of the action, tostim‘window’, always appears in the absolutive; the actor immolnimi‘boys’ always appears in the ergative.

Both nouns trigger verb agreement: the absolutive argument appears on the verb as the ending -u; the ergative appears on the verb as the infix -o-.

Sentence order is typically VAE, that is, verb-absolutive-ergative. When both arguments appear we can think of it as VOS.

Either argument can be omitted in OS. In the third example the absolutive is left out, something we can only do awkwardly in English, by supplying a dummy argument. Note that the missing argument no longer triggers verb argument: the absolutive -u is omitted from the verb.

For ease of understanding, and to simplify the glosses, the color scheme above (absolutives in green, ergatives in red) is used throughout this document.

Many of our verbs can be either transitive and intransitive— break, roll, hang, close, stop, spin, grow, bend, bounce, burn, strengthen, form. The corresponding verbs will not be difficult in OS.

Often, though, we have a pair of verbs where OS has one: rise / raise; fall / drop; die / kill, come / fetch. These will be one verb and one concept in OS; this may take some getting used to. The transitive generally has a causative meaning, though as we’ll see OS has a causative as well.

We also have verb pairs which have about the same meaning, but differ in transitivity: I listened vs. I heard the sound; I studied vs. I learned algebra. These pairs are also single verbs in OS, with our subject expressed in the ergative; if a patient is present it’s as usual placed in the absolutive.

If we have no separate intransitive verb, we use the passive. For instance, we can say The mother nurtures the child but there’s no simple verb for what the child is doing; we have to say The child is nurtured. In OS there is; the child melnu, which has none of the indirectness of our passive.

With transitive verbs, the absolutive refers to what we think of as the object; with intransitives, to what we call the subject. With verbs like break it’s easy to see that the semantic role is the same— the absolutive is the thing that’s acted upon. With verb pairs like fall/drop it’s easier to be confused; we don’t think of the subject of fall as something acted upon, though by comparison with drop it certainly is. When in doubt, consider whether the English verb can be followed by an object. If it can’t, it’s intransitive, and belongs to the absolutive paradigm in OS.

The absolutive can always be used alone, with no ergative ‘subject’, even for transitive verbs. E.g. Ṭelpum ṭlepa, which we have to translate more verbosely as ‘The document was written’ or ‘Someone wrote the document’.

(This is the most basic verb tense in OS, but the glosses are past tense. Technically this is the perfect mood. We’ll see how to refer to present events later on.)

The ergative is used for what we consider the subject of transitive verbs— and those only; the subject of intransitives is put in the absolutive. Again, these forms can be used alone, with no absolutive referent.

listen

break

drop

light up

I

-u-

kisun

bakuş

tarug

şebur

you-m

-i-

kisin

bakiş

tarig

şebir

you-f

-ri-

kisrin

bakriş

tarrig

şebrir

he

--

kisn

bakş

targ

şebr

she

-ra-

kisran

bakraş

tarrag

şebrar

it

-ḷa-

kislan

bakḷaş

tarḷag

sebḷar

we-excl

-obu-

kisobun

bakobuş

tarobug

şebobur

we-incl

-ou-

kisoun

bakouş

taroug

şebour

you-pl

-oi-

kisoin

bakoiş

taroig

şeboir

they-mf

-o-

kison

bakoş

tarog

şebor

they-an

-ḷo-

kislon

bakḷoş

tarḷog

şebḷor

The ergative infixes are always placed in P23.

The basic infixes are1st person -u-2nd person -i-3rd person noneThese are not the same as the absolutive endings!

Gender is indicated in the 2s or 3s by infixing -r- for feminine and -ḷ- for animate referents immediately after C2. (In the 3s, insert -ra- / -ḷa.) Again, this is optional, and rare in the 2s. It is sometimes (but rarely) applied to the 1s: kisrun etc.
Animate -ḷ- changes to -l- after a dental consonant (t d s n l).
There’s no expression of inanimate gender: inanimates are precisely those things that can’t do anything. If you find yourself wanting to use the ergative for inanimates, you’re probably writing bad OS. E.g. an inanimate thing can’t “go” anywhere; it must be brought.

Very rarely the feminine -r- is used in the plural— e.g. kisroin ‘you (women) listened’. 3p animate -ḷ- is more common.

A helpful hint: None of the infixes put a simple -a- or -e- in P23 (-ra- isn’t simple). Forms with either of these vowels in P23 can therefore be confidently identified as nouns, e.g. kisan ‘ear’, ksena ‘(process of) listening’, kessen ‘listening device’.

This pattern corresponds to our transitive verbs with both subject and object expressed. It’s formed simply by combining the two previous patterns: the absolutive endings (the ‘object’) in P4, and the ergative infixes (the ‘subject’) in P23.

subject

object

I

you-m

you-f

he

she

we-excl

we-incl

you-pl

they

me

kisine

kisrine

kisne

kisrane

kisobune

kisoune

kisoine

kisone

me-f

kisinet

kisrinet

kisnet

kisranet

kisobunet

kisounet

kisoinet

kisonet

you-m

kisuna

kisrina

kisna

kisrana

kisobuna

kisouna

kisoina

kisona

you-f

kisunat

kisinat

kisnat

kisranat

kisobunat

kisounat

kisoinat

kisonat

you-du

kisunas

kisinas

kisrinas

kisnas

kisranas

kisobunas

kisounas

kisoinas

kisonas

him

kisunu

kisinu

kisrinu

kisnu

kisranu

kisobunu

kisounu

kisoinu

kisonu

her

kisunut

kisinut

kisrinut

kisnut

kisranut

kisobunut

kisounut

kisoinut

kisonut

us-excl

kisunep

kisinep

kisrinep

kisnep

kisranep

kisobunep

kisounep

kisoinep

kisonep

us-incl

kisuneg

kisineg

kisrineg

kisneg

kisraneg

kisouneg

kisoineg

kisoneg

you-pl

kisunag

kisinag

kisrinag

kisnag

kisranag

kisobunag

kisonag

them

kisuni

kisini

kisrini

kisni

kisrani

kisobuni

kisouni

kisoini

kisoni

them-f

kisunit

kisinit

kisrinit

kisnit

kisranit

kisobunit

kisounit

kisoinit

kisonit

The blank cells in the chart are those where subject and object are the same; you don’t use ergative/absolute forms for these, but reflexives (next section). Forms like kisranut ‘she listened to her’ do exist, but their meaning is always non-reflexive; that is, it doesn’t mean ‘she listened to herself’.

The he column is identical to the absolutive paradigm— that is, there’s no formal distinction between kisne ‘he listened to me’ and kisne ‘I was listened to’.

To save space I’ve left out animate and inanimate referents. They’re simply combinations of the absolutive and ergative affixes we’ve seen, e.g. kislanum ‘it (animate) listed to it (inanimate).

All the verb forms we’ve seen so far comprise the perfect, which is used for completed action. It generally corresponds to our past tense (e.g. kisun‘I listened’) or present perfect (e.g. gende‘I have come’).

There are four other moods. The descriptions below are simply a first approximation; the full usage of the verb is best explained after all the forms have been presented, and I therefore discuss it farther on, under Syntax.

The intentive is formed by changing the stem vowel in P12 to u. Its base meaning is intention: someone intends to do something. As such it’s often used for the future tense, but it may correspond to our progressive, and even to our first-person imperatives. E.g. the second example below may also be glossed ‘I intended to listen’, ‘I’m listening’, ‘I was listening’, ‘Let me listen.’

kusne

I intend to be heard

kusun

I intend to listen

turga

You intend to fall

bukş

He intends to break (something)

The desiderative is formed by changing the stem vowel to a (if it’s already a, to au). Its base meaning is that the action is desired: gandu ‘may he come’, ‘I hope he’ll come’, ‘he wants to come.’

kasne

I want to be heard

kasun

I want to listen

taurga

You want to fall

baukş

He wants to break (it)

The metutive is formed by changing the stem vowel to o. It expresses a fear of a possible negative consequence: moŋl! ‘(I’m afraid) he may speak!’ ; bokşu ‘it may be broken’; gonode ‘(with my luck) they’ll summon me.’

kosne

I’m afraid of being heard

kosun

I’m afraid to listen

torga

You’re afraid to fall

bokş

He’s afraid of breaking (it)

The negative is formed by deleting the stem vowel. Negative verbs are thus shorter than positive ones, which is enough of a rarity on Earth that language universals have been proposed against it. It can be used to negate any of the other moods.

ksne

I don’t/didn’t/won’t hear

ksun

I don’t/didn’t/won’t listen

trga

You don’t/didn’t/won’t fall

obkşu

He doesn’t/didn’t/won’t break it

The ‘regular’ form for the 3s ergative-paradigm negative would be C1C2C3— that is, a form with no vowels at all. By convention the absolutive 3sm -u is added— in effect we say ‘he didn’t break it’ rather than just ‘he didn’t break’— and normally o- is prefixed as well: thus obkşu above.

The imperative is used for direct orders. It’s formed with u in P0 and nothing in P12, and the appropriate ergative infix or absolutive ending: uksne ‘may I be heard!’ uksoin ‘listen, all of you!’ udntu ‘let him go.’ Commands to oneself or to one’s group, however, are expressed as intentives.
Some imperatives are unpronounceable even by the facile-tongued Skourenes; in this case an epenthetic -u- may be inserted in P12, as in the last two samples. (Technically, as we’ll see below, this creates an inceptive imperative: ‘begin to fall!’)

uksne

hear me!

uksinut

listen to her!

uturga

Fall!

ubukş

Let him break it!

A negative imperative is formed using the particle gba: gba uksinut ‘don’t listen to her!’

There are three aspects, each dealing with the timing or duration of an event. They are marked by adding a vowel a/u/i just before C2. If the inserted vowel is the same as the stem vowel, insert -r- between them.

The durative is formed by adding a. Its basic meaning is that an action extends in a solid block of time: dearke ‘I cried and cried’, karalteg ‘we slept for hours’.

kiasne

I was heard for a long time

kiasun

I listened for a long time

tararga

You kept falling

The inceptive is formed by adding u. It focusses on the beginning of the action. As such, it often indicates a change of state, and this may replace separate verbs in English: merṭu ‘he rode’, meurṭu ‘he mounted’.

kiusne

I began to be heard

kiusun

I began to listen

tauga

You began to fall

baukş

He began to break (it)

şeubru

It was lit (e.g. set aflame)

The cyclical is formed by adding i. Its basic meaning is that an action was repeated or habitual. Unlike the durative, it implies that the action was not continuous, but recurred at intervals.

kirisne

I was heard over and over

kirisun

I listened many times

tairga

You fell several times

baikş

He kept breaking it

şeibru

It was illuminated again and again

All of these may be combined with the moods as well, except for the negative:

A variety of nouns can be formed from any verb root. Not every derivation is actually used, but I’ve run a set of verbs (kisn- ‘listen’, ṭelp- ‘write’, gitr- ‘form, create’, kirk- ‘fight’, geşr- ‘rule’, meln- ‘nurture’, meŋl- ‘speak to’, masp- ‘think about, care for’) through all the possibilities to help clarify the meaning of each transform.

That we can form all these nominalizations doesn’t mean that we should. Proper OS style prefers verbs wherever possible— e.g. “I fight and they cannot stop me” rather than “My fighting technique is unstoppable”. See Avoiding copulation below.

Process: eCuCeCaThis is a general nominalization naming a process, activity, or ability.

ekusena

listening, hearing

eṭulepa

the writing process

egutera

creation

ekureka

fighting, combat

eguşera

government, rule

emulena

nurture, mothering

emuŋela

speaking, (the facility of) speech

emusepa

thinking; concern, worry

Instance: CCiuCCaA single instance of the action. In English the same word is often used for both process and instance, but the instance takes an article (compare ‘thought’ with ‘a thought’).

Patient: CoCCimA person or object that undergoes the action. (By contrast with the previous transform, this should be a person if possible; if not, it’s less concrete; compare gdira, gotrim.)

kosnim

a sound

ṭolpim

text

gotrim

the form or shape of something

korkim

opponent

goşrim

subject (of a ruler)

molnim

child

moŋlim

addressee, audience

mospim

ward, protégé

If desired, these can be made explicitly feminine by changing the final -m to -s; e.g. mospis ‘female ward’, molnis ‘girl’.
Recall that the OS feminine includes children; this is occasionally relevant— e.g. goşris could be used for ‘a child subject’. Where the word implies non-adult status, however (e.g. molnis, mospis), it refers to actual girls.

Actor: aCeCoCA person that does the action.

akeson

listener

aṭelop

writer

agetor

potter, creator

akerok

fighter

ageşor

ruler

amelon

mother

ameŋol

speaker

amesop

thinker

These can optionally be turned into female referents by adding a final -t; e.g. aṭelopt ‘female writer’, akerokt ‘female fighter’, ameŋolt ‘female speaker’. Again, where semantically appropriate, these can refer to children as well.

Device: CeCCeCAn object that performs the action. This is never a person, though it could be an animal, e.g. ŋessem ‘bull, stud’.

kessen

a recording device, perhaps magical

ṭellep

a writing device

getter

mold

kerrek

a recalcitrant or dangerous machine

meŋŋel

a speaking device

messep

robot

Tool: CiCaCA tool or object used to execute the action. Many basic nouns in OS derive from verbs using this transform.

Ergative participle: iCCCeCSomething which acts; similar to our present participle.

ikksen

listening

iṭṭlep

writing

iggter

forming

ikkrek

fighting

iggşer

ruling

immlen

nurturing

immŋel

speaking

immsep

thinking

If the verb has a verb prefix, form the nominalization, then precede it with the verb prefix. However, the initial u- of the art nominalization, and the initial a- of the actor nominalization, normally migrate before the prefix: uŋremaspas ‘illogic’, amnekerok ‘one who fights by hand’.
The most ancient form of nominalization is to use an complete verb form as a noun:

ḍairḷoḍ

they keep bringing it

amber

gitra

you were formed

wax

guṭḷi

they will be glad

good omen

kusni

they will be heard

language

Miligenḍi

they were summoned; they came

(city name)

ḍadnim

they are inside

intestines

guşouri

we rule them

hinterland

ṭailuadni

they want to keep living in the sea

iliu

goşpa

it tires you

far

nuilmim

they will cyclically shine

moons

mianum

it is always below

floor

gairoukum

we cyclically sprinkle it

cumin

muḍureg

we will be whole

federation

gidori

they protected them

military honors

raḍḍoug

we have finished harvesting

harvest festival

usṭişum

(you) solve it!

puzzle

This type of derivation remained extremely productive for names, as well as for nonce descriptions: kşigu umḍişnu ‘don’t kill a man who has surrendered’, where umḍişnu is used as a noun, but simply means ‘he surrendered’.

There are also irregular derivations:

maŋ- fear

→

moŋ coward

dem- go upward

→

idma more

ḍed- be a brother

→

ḍod brother

meld- be a sister

→

mald sister

pasn- be a man

→

pisan ten

sirm- crawl

→

surm reptile

Or perhaps the process of derivation went the other way. Some linguists suggest that e.g. ḍod came first, and was turned into a verb.

A minority of verbs are biconsonantal. They are conjugated very much like triconsonantal verbs, with some adaptations. In the examples below, four biconsonantal verbs are compared with triconsonantl kisn-.

For biconsonantal verbs, the positions are named P0 C1 P12 C2 P3.

The absolutive and reflexive paradigms work as usual, since they’re applied with suffixes.

The ergative and ergative/absolutive paradigms discard the stem vowel and replace it with the ergative infixes. (The exception is the 3s null infix; here, just leave the stem vowel alone.)

kisn- listen

ḍer- rot

gim- bite

riŋ- sing

ŋeḍ- recline

abs (1s)

kisne

ḍere

gime

riŋe

ŋeḍe

erg (1s)

kisun

ḍur

gum

ruŋ

ŋud

abs/erg (1s/2s)

kisuna

ḍura

guma

ruŋa

ŋuda

refl (1s)

kisnei

ḍerei

gimei

riŋei

ŋeḍei

erg (3s)

kisn

der

gim

riŋ

ŋeḍ

For the intentive, desiderative, and metutive moods, prefix the verb with the mood vowel (u-, a-, or o-), and delete the stem vowel (if it hasn’t been replaced by an ergative infix).

The negative is formed by duplicating the initial consonant and inserting -o- in between.

The imperative merges with the intentive.

kisn- listen

ḍer- rot

gim- bite

riŋ- sing

ŋeḍ- recline

Absolutive (1s)

intentive

kusne

uḍre

ugme

urŋe

uŋde

desiderative

kasne

aḍre

agme

arŋe

aŋḍe

metutive

kosne

oḍre

ogme

orŋe

oŋḍe

negative

ksne

ḍoḍre

gogme

rorŋe

ŋoŋḍe

Ergative (1s)

intentive

kusun

uḍur

ugum

uruŋ

uŋuḍ

desiderative

kasun

aḍur

agum

aruŋ

aŋuḍ

metutive

kosun

oḍur

ogum

oruŋ

oŋuḍ

negative

ksun

ḍoḍur

gogum

roruŋ

ŋoŋuḍ

If there’s no overt mood, the aspect vowel (-a/u/i-) is inserted before C2— that is, after the stem vowel or ergative prefix, whichever occupies P12. (This produces a few mergers— e.g. goim could be ‘you-pl bit’ or ‘they habitually bit’; only context can disambiguate these.)

If there’s a marked mood, insert the aspect vowel after the mood vowel.

kisn- listen

ḍer- rot

gim- bite

riŋ- sing

ŋeḍ- recline

Absolutive (1s)

durative

kiasne

ḍeare

giame

riaŋe

ŋeaḍe

inceptive

kiusne

ḍeure

giume

riuŋe

ŋeuḍe

cyclical

kirisne

ḍeire

girime

ririŋe

ŋeiḍe

Ergative (1s)

durative

kiasun

ḍuar

guam

ruaŋ

ŋuad

inceptive

kiusun

ḍurur

gurum

ruruŋ

ŋurud

cyclical

kirisun

ḍuir

guim

ruiŋ

ŋuid

With aspects (1s)

Absolutive (1s)

dur + int

kuasne

uaḍre

uagme

uarŋe

uaŋḍe

incep + desid

kausne

auḍre

augme

aurŋe

auŋḍe

cycl + metut

koisne

oiḍre

oigme

oirŋe

oiŋḍe

Ergative (1s)

dur + int

kuasun

uaḍur

uagum

uaruŋ

uaŋuḍ

incep + desid

kausun

auḍur

augum

auruŋ

auŋuḍ

cycl + metut

koisun

oiḍur

oigum

oiruŋ

oiŋuḍ

The prefixes work as usual; the prefixes appear before the mood/aspect prefixes if any.

The pattern for the nominalizations can be seen in the following table.

kisn- listen

ḍer- rot

gim- bite

riŋ- sing

ŋeḍ- recline

Process

ekusena

eḍera

egema

ereŋa

eŋeḍa

Instance

ksiunna

ḍiurra

giumma

riuŋŋa

ŋiuḍḍa

Art

ukasnas

uḍaras

ugamas

uraŋas

uŋaḍas

Resulting object

ksena

ḍrera

gmema

reŋa

ŋeḍa

Patient

kosnim

ḍorim

gomim

roŋim

ŋodim

Actor

akeson

aḍeroṭ

agemoṭ

areŋoṭ

aŋeḍoṭ

Device

kessen

ḍerreḍ

gemmeg

reŋŋer

ŋeḍḍeŋ

Tool

kisan

ḍiraḍ

gimag

riŋar

ŋiḍaŋ

Place

ksanali

ḍarali

gamali

riŋali

ŋaḍali

Abs. participle

akasni

aḍari

agami

araŋi

aŋaḍi

Erg. participle

ikksen

iḍḍer

iggem

irreŋ

iŋŋeḍ

The biconsonantal verbs are no longer productive; innovated or borrowed verbs are always triconsonantal.

An affixing noun is one where the root itself doesn’t change; declension is accomplished through prefixes and suffixes.

‘realm’

‘mother’

‘wax’

‘arena’

‘writing’

sing.

abs

tebbeḍ

amelon

gitra

krakali

ukasnas

erg

ittebbeḍ

ŋamelon

iggitra

ikrakali

ŋukasna

gen

tebbeḍi

ameloni

gitrai

krakaliri

ukasnai

pl.

abs

tebbeḍe

amelono

gitrar

krakalir

ukasnara

erg

ittebbeḍe

ŋamelono

iggitrar

ikrakalir

ŋukasnara

gen

tebbeḍu

amelonu

gitrau

krakaliu

ukasnau

The ergative is formed:

If the noun begins with a single consonant, by prefixing the word with iC1. That is, the initial consonant is doubled.

If it begins with two consonants, by prefixing it with i-.

If it begins with a vowel, by prefixing it with ŋ-.

The genitive is formed by suffixing -i in the singular, -u in the plural. As usual, i + i = iri and u + u = uru.

The plural is formed:

If the noun ends in a consonant, by suffixing the last vowel in the root.

Otherwise, by suffixing -r.

(We can reconcile these two rules by supposing that in the ancestral language, a final vowel was doubled, with the usual -r- insertion between identical vowels: *gitrara; the final vowel was then lost.)

If the noun ends in -as or -is, remove the -s before applying the above rules. E.g. Skouras → erg. Isskoura, gen. Skourai.

In a vowel-changing verb, declension is accomplished largely by varying the vowels within the root.

‘document’

‘ear’

‘sea’

‘temple’

‘city’

sing.

abs

ṭlepa

kisan

ṭal

ṭisu

eŋ

erg

iṭṭlepa

ikkisan

iṭṭal

iṭṭisu

ŋeŋ

gen

ṭleipa

kisain

ṭail

ṭirisu

eŋi

pl.

abs

ṭlopa

kison

ṭol

ṭusu

oŋ

erg

iṭṭlopa

ikkison

iṭṭol

iṭṭusu

ŋoŋ

gen

ṭleupa

kisaun

ṭaul

ṭiusu

eŋu

The ergative is formed in the same way as for affixing nouns.

The genitive is formed by infixing -i- in the singular, -u- in the plural, after the last non-final vowel in the root (or to put it another way, before the final consonant of the root). As usual, i+i = iri, u+u = uru.
A subclass of vowel-changing nouns forms the genitive in the same way as affixing nouns; eŋ is an example. These are noted in the lexicon.

The plural nom. and acc. are formed by backing the last vowel: i/o → u, a/e → o.

How do you know if a noun is vowel-changing or not?

The resulting object (CCeCa) and tool (CiCaC)nominalizations are always vowel-changing.

The relatively few nouns which aren’t derived from a verb (often recognizable by being biconsonantal) are vowel-changing; cf. ṭal, ṭisu above.

Adding the -ṭi- diminutive (see below) to a vowel-changing noun makes it affixing.

There are two definite forms, close and remote. They are formed by suffixation.

The close definite suffix is normally -ul.

After a vowel, it’s just -l.

If the noun ends in plural -r, change this to -ḷ instead.

If the noun ends in -as or -is, change these to -atul, -itul instead.

‘writing’

‘wax’

‘document’

‘ear’

base

ukasnas

gitra

ṭlepa

kisan

sing.

abs

ukasnatul

gitral

ṭlepal

kisanul

erg

ŋukasnal

iggitral

iṭṭlepal

ikkisanul

gen

ukasnail

gitrail

ṭleipal

kirisanul

pl.

abs

ukasnaral

gitraḷ

ṭlopal

kisonul

erg

ŋukasnaral

iggitraḷ

iṭṭlopal

ikkisonul

gen

ukasnaul

gitraul

ṭleupal

kiusanul

The remote definite suffix is normally -aŋ.

After a vowel, it’s just -ŋ.

If the noun ends in -as or -is, change these to -ask, -isk instead.

‘writing’

‘wax’

‘document’

‘ear’

base

ukasnas

gitra

ṭlepa

kisan

sing.

abs

ukasnask

gitraŋ

ṭlepaŋ

kisanaŋ

erg

ŋukasnaŋ

iggitraŋ

iṭṭlepaŋ

ikkisanaŋ

gen

ukasnaiŋ

gitraiŋ

ṭleipaŋ

kirisanaŋ

pl.

abs

ukasnaraŋ

gitraŋ

ṭlopaŋ

kisonaŋ

erg

ŋukasnaraŋ

iggitraŋ

iṭṭlopaŋ

ikkisonaŋ

gen

ukasnauŋ

gitrauŋ

ṭleupaŋ

kiusanaŋ

The close definite form is very similar to our definite article— that is, we can say that ṭlepa = ‘a document’, ṭlepal = ‘the document’.

The remote definite can be seen as an obviative: ṭlepaŋ ‘the other document’.

These can be also seen as demonstratives, and in fact historically that’s what they are: ‘this document / that document’. If you have no specific noun in mind, you can use the generic mam ‘thing, item’— e.g. mamul ‘this one, mamaŋ ‘that one’.

The precise manner of using the definite forms varied by region:

In the delta they were used much as in English.

In the southeast (and therefore in Gurdago) they were less used, generally only to avoid confusion.

In the southwest they’re very frequent, used more as in French.

In the far north they’re not used at all.

Definite forms were not used with proper names; but some proper names are formed from definite expressions, the best known being Namal, literally ‘The Waters’. (I write ‘the Namal’ in English to reflect this.)

Many common attributes are indicated simply with affixes. There are two subclasses, suffixes (e.g. -eli ‘good’, -naku ‘new’) and infixes (e.g. -iḷt- ‘beautiful’, -uşṭ- ‘red’).

Suffixes

suffix

miŋalharbor

ḍelriver

norşis maiden

ṭisutemple

dreşaalliance

krakaliarena

-ramgreat

miŋarram

ḍerram

norşisram

ṭisuram

dreşaram

krakaliram

-sokwhite

miŋalsok

ḍelsok

norşissok

ṭisusok

dreşasok

krakalisok

-eligood

miŋaleli

ḍeleli

norşiseli

ṭisueli

dreşeli

krakaleli

-nakunew

miŋalnaku

ḍelnaku

norşisnaku

ṭisunaku

dreşanaku

krakalinaku

The suffix is added to the citation form of the noun, with these exceptions:

If the (absolutive singular) noun ends in -i or -a and the suffix begins with a vowel, the -i or -a is suppressed.

If the noun ends in -as, the -s is suppressed: Skouranaku ‘new Skouras’.

Some assimilation, difficult to predict, can be observed, as in ḍerram or Guṭḷ- + -naku = Guṭḍaku.

Infixes

suffix

miŋalharbor

ḍelriver

norşis maiden

ṭisutemple

dreşaalliance

krakaliarena

-iḷtbeautiful

miŋaliḷt

ḍeliḷt

norşiḷtis

ṭisiḷtu

dreşiḷta

krakiḷtali

-urgdark

miŋalurg

ḍelurg

norşurgis

ṭisurgu

dreşurgi

krakurgali

-iktcold

miŋalikt

ḍelikt

norşiktis

ṭisiktu

dreşikta

krakiktali

-arṭgreen

miŋalarṭ

ḍerarṭ

norşarṭis

ṭisarṭu

dreşarṭa

krakarṭali

For standalone nouns like ḍel and ṭisu, the infix is added after the last consonant.

For nouns derived from triconsonantal verbs, the infix is added after C3. When C3 is the last consonant, as in miŋal and dreşa, this looks like the last rule; but compare norşis and krakali. The -is and -ali are sufixes, so the infix must precede them.

Descriptive affixes are applied after case changes and pluralization, but before the definite suffixes. Thus ṭisurram ‘great temples’, tebbeḍiram ‘of a great realm’, but ṭisurramul ‘the great temples’, tebbeḍiramul ‘of the great realm’.

The participles are much like the associative nouns, except that they’re derived from verbs. Again, they may be used as nouns; e.g. from geşr- ‘rule’ we form agaşri ‘ruled’ and iggşer ‘ruling’— i.e. ‘subject’ and ‘ruler’.

(The patient and actor nominalizations (goşrim ‘subject’ and ageşor ‘ruler’) are similar, but imply a more permanent or inherent state, which is why they’re often lexicalized as names of titles and classes of people. An iggşer might be someone who finds themselves leading in a temporary or abnormal situation.)

A noun with possessive is considered definite; the definite and remote suffixes can’t be added to it.

As with any descriptive suffix, these can be turned into causatives, e.g. ḍedr- ‘make or become ours’. Compare:

Ḍedru eŋul.The city became ours.Dedouru eŋul.We made the city ours.

These verbs have a special nominalization CeCCiCa which functions as a standalone pronoun. These are used for emphasis or for a sense of formality.

s.

pl.

1

ḍeŋŋipa

I (m.)

ḍeddira

we

ḍeŋŋita

I (f.)

2

ḍeggişa

you (m.)

ḍebbişa

you

ḍeggiṭa

you (f.)

3

ḍessina

he

ḍessira

they (m/f)

ḍessita

she

ḍellika

it

ḍellima

they (an.)

The patient nominalization produces the generalized pronominals ḍosrim ‘they’ and ḍodrim ‘we’. These are used to express common judgments or behavior; the second, of course, when the speaker approves of them, or wants to contrast Our People (the family, or Skouras) with outsiders or foreigners.

As usual, the absolutive participle can be used as a substantive or appositive: aḍaŋti ‘my (f.)’, aḍabşi ‘your (pl.), etc. These have an emphatic force, so we might think of them as meaning ‘mine, my own’, ‘yours, your own’, etc.

It should be no surprise that, having no true adjectives, OS has no predicative verb either. In effect, you don’t say that something “is” big; you say that it “bigs”; that is, you use the verb riḍ- ‘be big’.

In general, if you find yourself wanting to say that something “is” something, you’re not thinking in OS. Think about how to express the thought using a verb, instead— even if the nouns you want to use exist in the lexicon. Using English examples and sometimes stretching the language:

English style

OS style

This is amusing

This amuses me

He’s rich

He has become rich

My house is here

I live here

He is the ruler

He rules

I’m happy

I rejoice

That’s a lie!

You’re lying!

He’s dead, Jim

He just died, Jim

We are at war

We have begun to fight

My son is worthy

I praise my son

She’s ready for marriage

She has matured

I’m a storyteller

I habitually tell stories

I have orders

They ordered me

I am a parent

I’m raising children

He’s the Lord’s advisor

He advises the Lord

He is naked

He undressed

She’s a hottie

She attracts me

This is my father

Meet my father

I am 24 years old

I lived 24 years

That’s a great idea

I admire your idea

This is a ‘saddle’

We call this a ‘saddle’

You are a wonder

I marvel at you

This is my answer

I reply thusly

It is possible to use an appositive construction without a verb: Eŋŋuloşum aŋelot Meŋelandi ‘Eŋŋuloşum is the dictator of Meŋeland’; nilam dlena ‘gold is a metal’. But most nouns are derivatives of verbs and thus can be replaced with verbal expressions: ŋualtu MeŋelandŊeŋŋuloşum ‘Eŋŋuloşum commands Meŋeland’.

There is an existential verb tirṭ-, so that one can say e.g. tiarṭu eŋ koimdaraŋu ‘there existed a city in the east’. Gand- ‘come’ is also used existentially. Generally, however, it’s better to use a locative for this; see below.

In negative expressions, -moṭ can be translated ‘any’: gşutut moṭim ‘I don’t love anyone.’
After a plural substantive, the affixes can be used as separate words with their own descriptive affixes, to indicate the composition of the group, e.g. greḍar babsok kla-babuşṭ ‘the houses, some white, some red’.

The pronouns in -im must be inflected by case: e.g. ibbobim ‘someone (erg.)’.
Other useful expressions of time include aṭi ‘now’ and sas ‘already’.

The numbers from 1 to 6 are unanalyzable roots; pisan ‘10’ is a variation of pasn- ‘to be a man’, and 7 to 9 and 11 are formed by subtraction— e.g. 9 = 1 [from] 10. Morg ‘12’ seems to be a contraction of mar + ḍog ‘six-two’.

Numbers follow the noun: ameşod ded ‘three women’. A noun should not be pluralized if it’s followed by a number.
Basic arithmetic expressions:

5 + 2

bim idma ḍog

5 - 2

bim imna ḍog

5 * 2

bim diliri ḍog

5 / 2

bim kunkiri ḍog

There are verbs for the first three ordinals: nikt- ‘be first’, nişp- ‘be second’, nind- ‘be third’. The participles anakti, anaşpi, anandi ‘first one, second one, third one’ are useful. Past this the idiom ‘to come n’ can be used, e.g. gendu bim ‘he came fifth’.

For the first six numbers, there are verbs ‘to make n; divide into n parts’: ḍemṭ-, ḍeḍg-, ḍenḍ-, ḍerṭ-, ḍebm-, ḍemr-. The first six fractions are nominalizations of these verbs.

The Skourenes were well trained for arithmetic; in trading they had to deal not only with currency conversions but different bases, since the Jeori used base 6 and the Axunemi used base 10. They learned the Jeori and Axunašin numbers in order to calculate using these bases.

The most characteristic names are entire one-word sentences, often expressing a prediction for the future, a pious reflection on the parents’ state of mind, or a shout-out to the gods for recent blessings. A sampling:

Name

Meaning

Baulunrada

she will calm you with speech

Bolbsgu

he will not lack hair

Doḷsurriki

you (f.) will please them all

Ḍamnualmu

he will shine wholly

Ḍodsians

he counselled (his) brother

Ḍolbunodu

they all will marvel at him

Ḍuaptai

you will always make yourself strong

Ḍurunsu

he will become rich

Gangşpu

his foot does not tire

Geŋmunda

you will walk in the forest

Kamopa

we expected you

Krolakurilim

they will not weaken you, you will weaken them

Kurran

she will attract

Kuskurki

he will outfight them

Mandaŋoḍu

the people want to obey him

Menidep

you accompanied us

Mianṭep

we are rejoicing

Mneutiḍe

you will walk alongside me

Nilşugla

you know how to be great

Nosḍururiḍ

he will acquire money

Nuiktui

he will win many times

Nusrinep

you (f.) will take care of us

Pgomu

they won’t defeat him

Pilobus

we sacrificed

Pualran

She will always be kind

Sianisep

you continually advised us

Sinatşugla

you will be great with the sword

Suŋka

you will succeed

Tuşurat

we are attached to you (f.)

Ṭalḍaga

you were born by the sea

Ṭelpulgag

his hand will support you

Umḍultat

her face will be beautiful

Uruŋḍep

we will begin to rest

Some names (e.g. Mandaŋoḍu and Sinatşugla above) use verbal prefixes which are rare or nonexistent in the rest of the lexicon.

Noun phrases can also be used as names; these are less likely to be unique.

Pragmatically, placing a constituent earlier than its accustomed position expresses surprise, hearsay, or distance: Asenoso kisni ŋageşorul, for instance, could be translated “I hear that the governor listened to his advisors.” A complete reversal (Ŋageşorul asenoso kisni ) could be interpreted, “His advisors— take it as you will, I’m just sayin’— the governor listens to them.”

The perfect contrasts with all the other moods— that is, the intentive, desiderative, metutive, and imperative all normally imply that the action is incomplete, ongoing, in the future, or unreal. These may refer to past, present, or future activity. All are associated with a mental state:

The intentive expresses will: the action is intended by the actor.

Its prototypical meaning is to express what someone is trying to do right now, or intends to do in the future: dunte ‘I’m going, I will go’; kurouk ‘we mean to fight’.

Combined with the perfect, it expresses the actors’ state of mind, and thus corresponds to our past progressive:

It’s the vaguest of the imperfect moods— after all, most actions are intended by someone. As such it can be used for most present actions, much like our present progressive.

Surutu degarṭa.I’m wearing a green dress.

The desiderative expresses desire; the metutive expresses fear. To the Skourenes desire and fear were apparently less of a guarantee of results than intention: the two moods function something like a subjunctive or irrealis, separated by whether the action is viewed positively or not.

They may be used literally to refer to desire or fear: dante ‘I want(ed) to go’, donta ‘I’m afraid you’ll go’.

Normally the feelings are those of the speaker; but speaking to someone one may take their point of view (torga ‘you could fall!’); and in a narrative they refer to the viewpoint character (torgu ‘he was afraid of falling’).

By extension, they’re used for uncertain or future events that no one is responsible for (i.e., they’re no one’s intent). If the effect is positive or neutral the desiderative is used (paltu ‘it will rain (if all goes well)’, otherwise the metutive (soḷgu ‘it may get dark’).

All three moods may be used in place of the perfect when it’s desired to emphasize someone’s emotional state. E.g. in a past context you’d normally say dante ‘I went’; but if you wanted to emphasize that you were leaving on purpose you could say dunte ‘I intended to go’, without necessarily implying that you didn’t succeed.

OS has no relativization and, in effect, no way of making complex or compound sentences except for concatenation. Rather, the OS speaker simply strings verbs together until the desired meaning is achieved. Particles called connectors (shown in this section in blue) help clarify the relationships between referents and clauses.

(It could also be argued that the connectors are all subordinators. Since they include simple concatenation and all have the same syntactic form, it’s simpler to consider them akin to conjunctions.)

The simplest case is where two or more verbs share the exact same arguments. They can simply be concatenated, using the clitic ḷa- (aḷ- before a vowel):

Nemratut ḷa-lenradutḍogimsatŋamelonul.
lift-3sf-3sf and-comfort-3sf-3sfbaby-hermother-DEF The mother picked up and comforted her baby.

In the first example, we know that the second verb should have an ergative argument and none is supplied: it’s assumed to be the same as the first verb’s (i.e. ‘mother’). The same goes for the second example and its understood absolutive argument (i.e. ‘baby’).

What if the a referent’s role changes between sentences? First and second person arguments cause no confusion, of course; one can string together almost any number of predicates with no confusion:

Guşutat ḷa-guşrite ḷa-nuḷuşat ḷa-daunumat.
love-INT-2sf-1smand-love-INT-1sm-2sfand-praise-INT-2sf-1smand-sex-DESID-2sf-1smI love you and you love me and I praise you and I want to sleep with you.

Referents of differing genders are also clear:

Meŋralu ḷa-kisnut ḷa-dantu ḷa-benkut.
speak-INT-3sf-3sand-listen-INT-3s-3sfand-go-3sand-stay--3sfShe spoke to him and he listened to her and he went and she stayed.

Ergativity leads to some unexpected implications, if you’re used to a nominative-accusative language. For instance:

Serḍu aŋeşoṭulŋanesonulḷa-sepu.
hit-3s-3sthief-DEFwatchman-DEFand-go-3sThe watchman hit the thief and he left.

The person who left is understood to be the thief, not the watchman. Sepu requires an absolutive argument, and there’s nothing to indicate that case roles changed, so it gets the first verb’s absolutive.

If it’s desired to have the watchman leave, the first sentence can be put in the causative. This is a transformation which demotes the original ergative to the absolutive, and the absolutive to the genitive. If we see a causative without an ergative causer— implying that it’s used only for its case demoting effect— we can call it an antipassive.

As usual sepu requires an absolutive argument; but it can’t be ŋiraşul ‘the money’, because that’s inanimate. Its argument is therefore taken to be the thief, demoted from ergative to absolutive.

If it’s not possible or not desired to change case roles to make everyone match up, the clitic ge- (g- before a vowel) can be used instead; this has the same meaning as ḷa- but explicitly suspends case role expectations. E.g::

Serḍu aŋeşoṭul anesonulge-sepu.
hit-3s-3sthief-DEFwatchman-DEFplus-go-A3sThe boy hit the thief and he (the boy) left.

There’s nothing explicit that tells us that the boy is the absolutive of sepu; but we can deduce it from the fact that no other argument was supplied, and ge- was used.

Often we want to introduce a referent in one clause, typically as an absolutive, and focus on it in the next, typically as an ergative. This is done using the topicalizerkau- (kam- before a vowel).

Bilobutu Ṭisutrandkau-nankep.
find-1p-3sṬisutrantopic-cheat-3s-1p(Lit.) We found the Ṭisutran; as for him, he cheated us.
We found the Ṭisutran who had cheated us.

The pragmatic effects of kau- and ge- are similar— both revise the case matching process— but kau- is more specific; its referent is always one explicitly present in the preceding clause.

In both cases, the most natural English translation is with a relative clause; the ge- example above might also be translated The boy hit the thief, who left. Still, in OS there is no formal process of relativization— that is, the use of a pronominal element referring explicitly to a preceding referent.

Saŋkum psiukkasannsul-mindntu aŋ-inbuştu boiḍunru nen-bşti ḍodrim.
successful-3snsexpedition-histherefore-back-go-neg-3sbut-attempt--int-travel-3s westward as-dur-go-neg-3pus-people(Lit.) His expedition was successful / therefore he did not return / but tried to travel westward / as people do not goHis expedition was so successful that he did not return, but decided to travel farther west than anyone had gone.

This way of putting sentences takes some mental adjustment; but on its own terms, it’s as simple and expressive as English. It’s something like pointillistic painting: there are more and shorter brushstrokes, but the resulting picture is no less complicated.

OS has no formal notion of sentential subjects or objects; this too is handled by sequenced verbs. For instance:

Korlu molnimulkau-nulnum.
metu-sicken-3sboy-deftopic-tell-3s-3sinLit. The boy sickened / he said it
The boy says that he is sick.

The two conjoints can just as well be reversed:

Nulnum immolnimulḷa-korlu.
tell-3s-3sin boy-defand-sick-3s

The case roles must be handled according to the usual rules. Here, for example, the boy is the absolutive of kirl- ‘be sick’ but the ergative of neln- ‘tell’. In the first sentence kau- is used to promote him from absolutive to ergative; in the second the demotion is automatic since no other argument is possible.

Simple location is expressed using the locative verb daŋ- ‘be in a place’. The location itself appears in the genitive and is placed immediately after the verb. Statements of the location use the verb as the principal predicate— using the durative for permanent states of affairs.

Daraŋum ḍeilul eŋul.
located-dur-3sin river-gen-def city-defThe city is on the river.

For present, temporary situations, the intentive is the most appropriate form:

Locatives are essentially sequenced verbs without an explicit connector. The case roles must match the main verb— here, for instance, udaŋ takes an ergative 3s subject, matching ‘father’. Locative verbs have the peculiarity that they may take either absolutive or ergative arguments, without a change of meaning. (If you’re not sure what verb form to use, it’s always safe to have it match the main verb.)

(It wouldn’t be incorrect to say udnum msapalirisan with an absolutive 3s-in subject; this would match ‘apple’. This would focus attention on the apple; we might translate the sentence Father is eating the apple (that’s) in his study.)

Directions and short common geographical terms are prefixed to the verb; in effect the combined verb becomes an adverbial. E.g. koimdaraŋu ‘in the east’, geiŋdaraŋu ‘in the forest’, ṭaildaraŋu ‘at sea’. (I’ve used the durative 3s form for these to emphasize the commonality; but they must agree with their subject in case and person.)

Motion toward is expressed using the verb ner- ‘move (toward)’; motion away using sep- ‘depart’, using the same rules as daŋ-.

Some verb prefixes can be instrumental— e.g. teḷ- ‘by hand’. If an appropriate prefix exists, use it in preference to the above construction: teḷsuruḍu ‘I’ll hit him using my hand’.

It’s bad form to use an instrumental derived from the main verb— e.g. ṭiḷuk ṭeḷḷeki ‘I dug using the shovel’, utnisum tennesi ‘cut it using the knife’. Though these sentences are fine in English, they sound redundant in OS; the instrumental can simply be omitted.
A measurement is a type of instrumental:

Yes-no questions are formed by adding -si after the verb, or after the element being questioned.

Ḍariḍum-si rilar?
bring-2s-3sin Q kindlingDid you bring kindling?

Ŋurşum koṭinşim-si?
int-buy-3s-3sinrowboat Q
He wants to buy a boat?

A specific item that’s being questioned is often fronted: Koṭinşim-si ŋurşum? This expresses a certain skepticism: “Is it really a boat he wants to buy? / He wants to buy a boat, are you sure?”
The word ‘who/what’ varies by gender and case. It’s used with 3s verb forms, agreeing of course with the verb.

There are two special locative verbs: sadŋ- for questioning location, and senr- for questioning direction or destination:

Ḍişinu ṭailuadnil sadiŋu? Senru?
see-2s-3s iliu-def where-2s-3s / whither-3sWhere did you see the iliu? Where was it going?

One can ask about times with the connectors mur-/de-; but the usual method is to question a possible time: Dunta ḍustaḍ-si? ‘Are you going tomorrow?’ Danta pastdim-si? ‘Did you go last year?’ (From a query about whether something happened at a particular time, it’s not a long jump to a request that the correct information be supplied.)

The verb sakş- asks about the quantity or extent of something: Sukşumkoṭinsimul? ‘How much is the boat?’

As manner is not grammaticalized in OS, there is no standard way of asking how something was done. If you want to ask (say) ‘how did the prisoner escape?’, you will have to rephrase: where is the prisoner? why is he not here? who allowed it, the prisoner escaping?

The Skourenes had no schools; children were taught at home, largely by observing or participating in the paperwork of the family business: inventory, making change, weighing, currency conversion, accounting, correspondence.

However, it was felt that puzzles and games developed the mind, and there were many collections of these. This one, unsigned, dates from Engidori from about Z.E. 650.

Paurṭut means ‘lazy (child)’, and is a nickname rather than a given name. We find him in other anecdotes and stories as well; he is something of a folkloric character. Though usually disdained for his laziness, he is sometimes admired for finding clever ways to avoid work.

Tinrasum giurral aḷde-niurranim giuṭirra morḍog ḷa-ded; ḷa-nulidum daŋum goḍlimi babtoş kla-babburn.
cut-3sf-3sin cube-def / then-have-3sf-3pin cube-dim 24 and-3 / and-know-2s-3s exist-3pin side-pl- some-blue or-some-woodenThe idiom noun-pl quant-xkla-quant-y, where quant is a quantifier, gives the composition of a group in terms of qualities x and y. We’ll see this again below with ḍega ‘half’.
He cut the cube into 27 cubes; but of course some sides were blue, some were wood color.

Ḍeutraşim giuṭirraḷ şiu-goḍlimmoṭ giurraudoḷ.
incep-make.blue-3sf-3sin cube-dim-pl-def / only-side-one cube-pl-gen
He began painting the cubelets blue, one side of one cube at a time.

This is a little parable from the writer Ḍodsians, who was born in Iṭili around Z.E. 410. The variety of OS literature is so great that I can’t say that it’s typical, but it does include many of the literary tropes that were popular in Skouras: a merchant hero, a little adventure, a little sex, a little understated moralism. It’s somewhat unusual for Ḍodsians himself, however; he devoted his considerable energies to a deadly earnest series of works on political philosophy and the history of the wars against Ṭisuram. But later centuries remember him only for his one thin book of stories (including this one), which he wrote for his children.

The first woman is obviously an iliu (ṭailuadni). These were fairly well known to the Skourenes— it was easier to get to the iliu enclave north of Feináe than to Axunai. However, this area was not exotic enough to form the basis of a cautionary fantasy; Ḍodsians therefore places her far to the west, past where the known world ended in Luduyn. There actually is an iliu enclave on the southern coast of Ereláe, in Jagai, though it’s unlikely that Ḍodsians actually knew this.

Syntactic notes are placed after the glosses and before the translation. If a mood is not named, it’s perfect; e.g. “and-bring-3s-3pns” should be taken as the perfect “and he brought them”.

Neru ṭretai mirḍok aḷ-ekurenairam ŋa-barasgi mandimi— ŋa-maraspum mur-girput ameşod, kau-kuarran nen-illenis ḷa-şuagluṭ nen-ikkuḷiŋ, ḷa-karaḷraşim tişaptoş ḷa-bul kau-şeabrim nen-riulla.
come-3s land-gen remote and-beauty-gen-great / but-dur-lack-3ppeople/ but-dur-think-3s-3sin / until-encounter-3s-3sf woman / topic-dur-int-attract-3sfas-goddess / and-proud-3sf-reflas-lion / and-had.inalienably-3sf-3pinskin-blueand-hair / topic-dur-glow-3pinas-fire
The woman does not possess her skin and hair like she does her house; she enjoys the use of them. These are two different verbs in OS, nirn- and kalş-.
“Without people” is— like almost everything else— a subclause, literally “though it continually lacked people.”
He came to a remote land of great beauty, yet empty of people, or so he thought till he encountered a woman, lovely as a goddess, proud as a lion, with blue skin and hair the color of fire.

Gauştut ogpu ḷa-ŋirimput ṭou-tasnut.
incep-love-3s-3sf wait-neg-3s / and-cyc-beg-3s-3sf / for-desid-marry-3s-3sfOgpu is literally ‘he didn’t wait’; without a connector, it’s an adverbial— “at once”.
He fell in love with her at once, and begged her to become his wife.

Şmrapu ŋa-inmindaintu ḍusdoḷ inneirum luiṭ laŋ-daraŋut ḍaradnut greiḍaḍarkos ḷa-ŋirimput.
neg-consent-3sf-3s / but-back-attempt-cycl-go-3s day-every go-3s meadow-gen / there-dur-reside-3sf dur-inside-3sf house-gen-stone-fine / and-cyc-beg-3s-3sfShe refused, but every day he returned to the meadow where she lived in a fine stone house, and pleaded with her.

Oŋlsu ŋiraş ḷa-ḍeandum ŋiraşul ḷa-ḍaurḍum kru-garaştut.
eat-neg-3s / and-dur-scorn-3s-3sin money and-acquire-3s-3sin / because-dur-love-3s-3sfHe did not eat, and he scorned the riches he had won, he was so enamored of her.

Dedimu ḍaḍḍut, ŋa-nelranum aḷ-udni ṭreitasat ḷa-gba utrlum nilam ḷa-gba unuşṭ ḷa-gba udunmut ameşod şiu-tosnissan.
after-long soften-3sfbut-say-3sin-3sf / and-imper-reside-3p land-gen-her / and-not imper-touch-3s-3singold / and-not steal-3s / and-not sex-3s-3sf womanexcept-wife-his
The reported commands are simply expressed as imperatives.
Finally she relented, but she said that they must live in her land, and that he must never touch gold, nor steal, nor make love to any woman but his wife.

Şamput agaṭḷi kru-ḍadŋ ṭreital ḍuşnum nilammoṭ, aḷ-adaŋimoṭ şim-ameşodtoşul, aḷ-greḍamoṭ şim-aḍasni.
agree-3s-3f glad-part / because-inside-3s land-gen-def neg-see-3s-3sin gold-one / and-resident-one except-woman-blue-def / and-house-oneexcept-hersHe gladly assented, for in this land he had seen no gold, nor any inhabitant but the blue woman, nor any house but hers.

Aḷde-dinmut, ḷa-ŋaraktim molmsat idma nen-ameşoddoḷ ṭaildoḷ, ḷa-deanḍim milonsat idma, ḷa-niadpum medsat idma.
then-sex-3s-3f / and-dur-warm-3pinlip-pl-her more as-woman-every world-gen / and-dur-soft-3pin breast-pl-her more / and-dur-active-3s body-her more
The particle idma stands in for the whole repeated nen- clause in the last two comparisons.
Then she made love to him, and her lips were the warmest of any woman in the world, her breasts the softest, her body the liveliest.

Daraŋi taraḍi past geld ḷa-ḍspi ḍusṭas kau-ŋsomi molnimi.
live-dur-3p together-dur-3p year 144 / and-age-neg-3p never / topic-sire-neg-3p-3pchild-plThey lived together for one hundred years, never aging, and having no children.

De-past geld ḷa-ḍus baurukpu ṭisutrandul.
after-year 144 and-day incep-desid-wander-3s ṬisutranAfter a hundred years and a day, the man from Ṭisutra felt the urge to wander.

Mendu goşpa sepu greiḍasan, de-bakpu ḍus mar aḷ-aibiltum greṭiḍitsai kau-telkum saip.
walk-3s far leave-3s house-gen-his / after-wander-3s day six / and-caus-find-3s hut-small-gen / topic-on.top-3sin mountain-gen
He walked far from his house, and after a week’s travel he came to a small hut on a mountain peak.

Nelnum, “Ḷa-nuarrinum nilam nen-mukrişum, nsul-ḍuansat!”
say-3s-3sin / and-desid-have-2sf-3singoldas-int-that.extent-2sf-3sin / therefore-int-rich-2sf
Makş- ‘to be to an extent’, when it qualifies another verb, takes the same verb form. We may translate ‘...to have gold to the extent you do.’
“You must be a rich woman indeed to have so much gold,” he told her.

“Şuş!” ḷa-nelranum. “Mekoakşum nilam nen-ukḷumisan.
pff / and-say-3sf-3sin / here-metut-dur-spread-3s goldas-weed“Pff! It is as common as weeds in these parts,” she told him.

Surrutum nilamdoḷul kla-piŋurrunum naurinum, şiu-nd-uḍriḍum dlenal nuilmimi nen-searitum mneṭa-gre-mneṭa.”
int-wear-1sf-3sin gold-all-def / but-int-un-have-1sf-3sin int-incep-have-2s-3sin / only-after-imper-bring-2s-3sin metal-def moon-gen / as-dur-wear-2s-3sin weight-for-weight
Literally, “I wear all this gold, I give it / you take it, after you bring metal of the moons, as you wear it, weight for weight.”
“I will give all I wear for its weight in the moon-metal you are wearing.”

Bika gre-nilam— dildum ḷa-mnegḍlum!
silver for-gold cheap-3sin / and-neg-pass-3s-3sin
Silver for gold— this was a bargain he could not pass up!

Minbiştu şolmimisan ḷa-teḷḍarḍum bikakuş ḷa-patku ḷa-teḷḍarḍim ḍairḷoḍsanbab ḷa-reller.
back-travel-3s ship-gen-his / and-gather-3s-3sinsilver-much / and-whim-3s / and-gather-3s-3pinamber-gis-some and-spice
He travelled back to his ship, gathered much silver, and on a whim gathered some of his amber and spices as well.

“Bunruda,” ḷa-nelranum. “Udnum ḍerreḍugoş bogimgog?”
int-marvel-1sf-2s / and-say-3sf-3sin / int-inside-3s bag-pl-gen-your what-otherNote that the ‘other’ quantifier can be added to the interrogative pronouns.
“You are a man of wonders,” she told him. “What else is in those bags of yours?”

“Ŋa-barasrugum nosḍreḍadoḷ ṭas-mamul.”
but-lack-1sf-3s payment-all / except-thing-def“But I have no payment to offer but this.”

Aḷde-tasratum degasat ḷa-barraḍim terolsan telk-milonsat.
then-open-3sf-3sinrobe-her / and-put-3sf-3pin hand-pl-his on-breast-pl-her
And she opened her robe and placed his hands on her breasts.

Ḍişranum şampum, ḷa-dinmut ḍiurakuş taḍut riullaisat.
offer-3sf-3sin accept-3s-3sin / and-make.love-3s-3sf hour-gen-many beside-3s-3sf fire-gen-her
The lack of connective on şampum binds it closer to the previous verb, making it an aspect of a single action: “she offered + he accepted”
He accepted her gift, and they made love beside her fire for hours.

Aḷde-teḷḍarḍum nilam ḷa-nirranum, aḷde-mindantu ḍuis mar neru greiḍasan; sararkum ŋriuttasan ḷa-maraspum triulla meulmsat.
then-gather-3s-3sin gold / and-give-3sf-3sin / then-return-3s day-gen six / go.to-3s house-gen-his / dur-please-3s-3sin sale-his / and-dur-remember-3s-3sin touch lip-gen-pl-her
Afterward he gathered up the gold she gave him, and returned the week’s journey to his own home, pleased with his trade, and still feeling the taste of her lips.

Aṭi-mindantu ŋa-barasgum greḍaḍar ḷa-barasgut tosnissan ṭas-bol ṭas-ganbeta.
when-return-3s / but-dur-lack-3sin house-stone / and-dur-lack-3sf wife-his / not-hair / not-foot-sign
‘Lack’ is effectively negative, so ṭas- reinforces it rather than introducing an exception.
But when he returned, there was no stone house, nor any sign of his wife, not even a hair or a footprint.

Mspu idmaṭas, kru-ḍamterlim past geld de-basgim, ḷa-targu ḍumak ḷa-keşgu.
neg-think-3s more-not / because-wholly-touch-3s-3pin year 144 / after-miss-3s-3pin / and-fall-3s there / and-die-3s
The middle section is literally “Because the 144 years completely touched him, after they missed him [before]”.
This was his last thought, for the hundred years which had not touched him now swept over him in a minute, and he fell down on that spot dead.

This is an extract from a bit of propaganda written in the late 790s by a senator from Meŋeland, extolling the dictator of the city, Eŋŋuloşum, perhaps the greatest general produced by ancient Skouras. He had won fame just a few years before by his successful assault on Guṭḷeli— ending a brutal twelve-year war, and ending as well Guṭḷeli’s attempt to create an empire over Skouras.

The imperial idea was in the air— the Jeori emperors Toma:un and Suma:un had recently conquered half of the Ezičimi states, and it was not long before Axuna would begin its march to empire. (Toma:un appears in the text in its Old Jeori form Tamon.) The Skourenes knew the Jeori well— they were longtime trading partners and rivals, and were frankly considered a little backward. Skourene ships were bigger, faster, and more powerful; Skourene armies were hardened by centuries of war. The right man in the right city could surely surpass the Jeori achievement.

Eŋŋuloşum seemed to many— certainly to everyone in his hometown of Meŋeland— to be that man. In 795 he supported the rebellion of Iṭili against Engidori. Engidori sent an army to punish him; he ambushed it along the Gerredtar, the south road, and cut it to pieces. A few years later he attacked Papliopagimi and whipped it and Engidori again.

The passage is written in the dialect of Meŋeland, not that far from the delta standard, but with a few peculiarities, e.g

the interrogative particle is -su instead of -si

the ergative is indicated by a particle ŋu- rather than iC/ŋ-

dant-

‘go’ has been pressed into service as a future tense prefix det-

There are a number of spelling differences, which have been regularized, as they are inconsistent, and highly ambiguous due to the nature of the writing system. Some of them point to some phonetic simplifications (e.g. kau- is often written ka-); it’s also notable that Guṭḷeli is written Guṭḷei, a presentiment of the Ečendi spelling Gudlai.

Det-gandu abeg nen-kuḷiŋaŋ kau-pamdi skourandal?
fut-desid-come-3s wholike-lion-that / topic-benefit-3s-3p Skourene-pl-def
The connector kau- promotes the absolutive subject of ‘come’ into the ergative subject of ‘benefit’.Who will be a similar lion among the Skourenes?

Det-ŋasmeg ŋu-abeg ḷa-det-ḍarmeg ṭou-mandram?
fut-desid-raise-3s-1pwho / and-fut-desid-make.great-3s-1p purpose-people-great
The first verb has the connotation ‘raise as a father’; the agent form aŋesom, in fact, is the word for ‘father’.Who will raise us into a great nation?

The solution was a mixed system: each word was represented by a logograph representing the lexeme, plus a syllabic representation which merged all the consonants. E.g. ṭuloup ‘we will write’ would be represented by a logograph ṬLP and syllabic glyphs $u-$o-u$, while ṭlepa ‘document’ would use the same logograph plus syllabic glyphs $$e-$a. The syllabic representation need not specify the actual consonants, since these are implied by the logograph.

The logograph was known as a peşşep ‘signifier’, the syllabic representation as a triutta ‘spelling’. The word derives from the convention that one could say a triutta out loud by using tfor all the consonants—— e.g. tu-to-ut for the first example above. A cluster was represented by tr, so the second example was spelled tre-ta.

A single syllabic glyph is a triuṭitta. The full set of triuṭittar is shown at right. (There are no three-consonant glyphs; if necessary, just ignore the extras: ḍspi is spelled tri.)

Peşşepe are written right to left. The triuttar are written normally written right to left underneath them, but they’re also sometimes written to the left of the peşşep, top to bottom. A Skourene would read the first line of the chart at right as u-o-i-e-a!

The samples are shown in color because the prototypical medium for the Iṭilik script is painting (as that for Chinese characters is brushwork, while medieval European calligraphy, and thus our typography, are based on writing with a bias-cut quill). Handwritten symbols at first closely matched the painted versions, but over the centuries were simplified and stylized much faster.

There were something over 700 peşşepe; but less than half of these were completely independent graphemes. Symbols could be combined to create a peşşep, or adapted from a similar-sounding root: e.g. the glyph for nals- ‘fly’, a picture of a hawk, was used for naḷş- ‘honor’ as well, with the addition of a ribbon (i.e. a mark of honor).

Geographical names, especialy foreign ones, were something of a problem. For some old borrowings glyphs were devised; e.g. that for Skouras was a stylized picture of a river (also used for ḍel ‘river’), plus some stylized hills. For newer borrowings the usual expedient was to borrow a word with the same consonants; e.g. Aksun uses the glyph for kisn- ‘hear’, with a special initial triuṭitta that indicates that the word is a toponym.

By the way, the representation of Skouras, tro-u-ta-at, illustrates two fine points in writing triuttar:

Wherever possible, use a CV triuṭitta rather than VC.

Since OS does not permit long vowels, the implied -aa- can be reduced to a single vowel.

Other cities adopted the Iṭilik system, but felt free to change the actual glyphs, in order to make it harder for outsiders to read one’s accounting or trade secrets. The result was a plethora of alternate scripts, one for each major city and its colonial empire.

By historical accident, from about 700 to 1000 Skouras was dominated by three different cities all using variations of the script of Guṭḷeli: Guṭḷeli itself, Meŋeland, and Kuḷiŋibor. This therefore became the standard script in the littoral; in Skouras proper, the Iṭilik script was the standard (to a somewhat lesser extent).

After the Tžuro invasion, most of the variants were removed from competition. Gurdago— yet another variant of Guṭḷeliki— had simplified its script; this influenced but did not replace the standard script in the littoral. This modified script is the ancestor of the modern Ečendi and Gelihurendi scripts.